


(don't) hold my breath

by carpemermaid



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Blow Jobs, Close Calls, Coming Untouched, Deepthroating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hung Keith, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Pining, Praise Kink, Romance, Size Kink, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Touch-Starved Keith, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 07:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12427620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpemermaid/pseuds/carpemermaid
Summary: His eyes slid over to Lance again, traveling over the way his bent arm flexed beneath his bodysuit—chest armor discarded when Hunk checked them over—and he felt parched all over again. Lance easily downed the entire water canteen without stopping, and when he did pull the canister away his lips were shiny and slick.And then it hit Keith like a brick wall, making him stutter out an uneven breath with the realization.Keith finds out a very important skill that Lance has:that he can hold his breath for a long time.He adds it to the list of reasons he’s pining after Lance—his right hand man, his teammate, his friend. See also: sad desert boy falls hopelessly in love with self-proclaimed mermaid boy with a heart of gold. Watch these two oblivious idiots find their home in each other.





	(don't) hold my breath

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh hahaha, I set out to write a fun + short oneshot about Keith Suffering™ after finding out that Lance has a special talent, but then I dove off into the deep end of feels, so here's that.
> 
> Thank you to [icarusinflight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusinflight) for being my second set of eyes and [varevare](http://archiveofourown.org/users/varebanos/pseuds/varevare) for translating the Spanish for me!!!

Lance could hold his breath for a stupidly long amount of time.

The first time Keith discovered this little fact, it hadn’t been remotely pleasant. In fact, it was one of the worst moments of his life—right up there with losing Shiro the first time, and then the _second_ time, and the time he broke his arm while scaling a cliff face in the middle of the arid desert.

They had been running away from the rendezvous point they were supposed to meet the rest of their team members at because the pair of them had been ambushed by more Galra soldiers than had been listed in the original intel. Lance kept firing his bayard over his shoulder, managing to pick off two of the soldiers hot in pursuit. Keith hacked ruthlessly at the planet’s vegetation, cutting vines and oversized leafy palms out of their path as they sprinted away from the Galra chasing them.

Lance might be the one with longer legs to carry him quickly, but Keith was faster and he had seen the waterfall ahead and had made a snap decision to use it as cover.

“Lance! The water!” Keith shouted, wrapping a hand tightly around his wrist and pulling him along as Keith darted over the jagged terrain, boots slipping precariously when his footholds weren’t secure.

And the thing about Lance was that he had Keith’s back, no matter what.

Even when Keith came up with a crazy idea, like jumping off a cliff into an unknown body of water.

His time as the Red Paladin had really solidified the dynamic between them, and so when Keith reached the rushing water gushing over the edge where the ground ended, Lance took a firm hold of his hand, lacing their fingers together, and leapt first without hesitation, tugging Keith with him. Keith’s stomach bottomed out as they plunged down the moderate drop into the pool of orange water below. Shots from the Galra’s laser blasters rained down on them as they plummeted, bolts of energy cutting through the water around them. They miraculously managed to miss them every time, as if the Galra were as uncoordinated as Storm Troopers in their aiming skills.

Keith remembered the water being frigidly cold, pricking at his cheeks and through his armor and bodysuit to his skin. It felt like it was wrapping sinister hands around his lungs and squeezing. He tried to force his legs to work while squinting through the water, scanning for incoming laser fire. Lance had a much easier time maneuvering his limbs, managing to signal to Keith to stay under and follow him. Lance swam in the direction of a marshy looking plant and Keith worked hard to cut his arms through the water, furiously kicking and pushing his body to deal with the cold and follow Lance.

They’d clung to one another, gripping each other’s forearms to keep from drifting away. Lance floated effortlessly while Keith was fighting the burn in his lungs. When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he thrashed and broke the surface of the water as stealthily as he could; he prayed that the splash of the waterfall masked the sound of his gasping. Keith sputtered on the water he’d sucked in as he kept his lips just barely above the water, his hair hanging in wet clumps over his forehead and dripping the icy water down his cheeks.

Lance was still underwater.

When he realized, Keith swiveled his body, treading water while his teeth began to chatter. If they’d had their helmets on when they’d been ambushed, their armor could have regulated their body temperatures in the water and even provided them with sufficient enough oxygen to stay under until the coast was entirely clear. Without the helmets, their Paladin suits were practically useless, save for the tech panel located in the forearm plate.

Keith shot a furtive glance towards the high mouth of the waterfall and didn’t see the Galra soldiers any longer. He quickly returned to searching the murky orange-purple of the water where the marshy plants floated like jellyfish tendrils. Keith had been taught that patience yielded focus, but none of the hard learned lessons in leadership and being a Paladin prepared him for the sickening panic that Lance was caught in the marsh plants—that Lance was _drowning_ and would _die_ because of Keith’s choices.

He sucked in an uneven breath, choking again when he inhaled more of the pond water, and splashed under the surface, eyes burning from the cold as he frantically searched for Lance, his heart pounding faster and faster by the second. Keith resurfaced, wheezing and trying desperately to find some shred of calm inside of him, searching for Shiro’s voice to guide him through the situation.

Keith’s imagination was already providing him with terrifying thoughts of Lance floating lifelessly, his bronze skin tinged gray and lifeless, lips dark with lack of oxygen, and his eyes clouded over. Keith’s heart gave a sickening lurch and he made a half-crazed sound in the back of his throat.

“Please, _please_ ,” he muttered to himself as he spun back and forth in the icy water. He tried to figure out how much time it had been since they’d jumped into the water, how long Lance was under, but Keith’s thoughts were all running together. “Lance, _please_.”

If Lance was really in trouble, he would have used his bayard to free himself, or Keith would have seen a disturbance in the water from him thrashing or—

Lance burst through the surface of the water.

He was sucking in lungful after lungful of air, floating on his back, and Keith felt like each breath Lance took was another one he was stealing from Keith.

Keith made a pathetic, nearly hysterical sound, and swam messily towards Lance. He wrapped his arms tightly around Lance’s neck and muttered into the wet skin of his cheek, lips sliding with each word.

“Keith, what—” Lance’s body bobbed in the water when Keith’s weight on his body counteracted his effortless floating.

“Jesus Christ, Lance, I thought you were dead—I didn’t know where you went, you were _right_ by my side when I had to go up for air— _why_ did you move—” Keith babbled incoherently.

Lance’s arms had come around his waist immediately, squeezing Keith before gently nudging him back.

“Whoa, whoa, dude—slow down,” Lance said gently, still slightly breathless. He shifted so that he could pull Keith closer, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Keith’s head, stroking his wet hair comfortingly. “Sorry, I was fine. I was trying to swim around to check for Galra from the other side of the pond, but on the way back my ankle got caught in the weeds.”

Keith gripped Lance’s shoulders and pinned him with a deadly serious look, tipping his chin down and looking up at Lance through his lashes.

“Don’t—ever—do—that—to—me— _again_ ,” Keith demanded. Lance nodded once and Keith let out a heavy exhale, shaking away some of the tension that had wound itself into each corner of his body. “I can’t lose you, Lance. You’re my partner out here.”

And then Keith might as well have stopped breathing altogether, because Lance shot him a charming lopsided smile, bumping his fist against Keith’s shoulder.

“I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine, buddy,” Lance said sincerely.

It was only later, after they’d both been through sessions in the healing pods and were curled up in their color-coordinated Paladin robes at the dining table, just the two of them, that Lance dropped the fact into Keith’s lap.

“You know how lucky you are to have been able to survive that without drowning?” Keith asked sullenly, trying not to feel the maelstrom of emotions he was still caught in. He fidgeted in his chair and ran his thumb over the sleeve of his robe. He never usually wore his—preferring his leather jacket—but he still felt the cold seeping into his bones from the pond and needed the extra warmth.

Lance waved him off, snorting. “Dude, that was nothing. Pretty sure it didn’t beat my record.”

Keith blinked and sat up straighter, pushing aside his bowl of food. “Nothing? Lance, you could have _died_ , don’t be so blasé about it!”

Lance looked at him with a bemused expression, holding his hands up as his brows drew together.

“Chill, Keith,” Lance said easily. “It was okay. I’m actually really good at holding my breath. I could have gone for a little while longer under the surface before it started to get really uncomfortable.”

Lance winked and Keith’s stomach flipped over.

“What?” Keith asked, voice straining.

“Bro, I’ve been a lifeguard at the beach, like, every summer since I was fifteen. I always won at breath holding contests with my siblings and nieces and nephews. And I learned how to surf with Hunk—we did it every time I visited his family,” Lance said. He slouched in his seat next to Keith and smirked. “I’ve always been a really strong swimmer, but _man_ did those red swim trunks help me mack on the hotties.”

And, yeah, it made sense that swimmers were usually good at holding their breath, but Keith’s brain was still having trouble processing the information.

He gaped at Lance, unsure what to even say, and ended up mumbling that he was going to bed. He rushed off, only half-hearing Lance calling, “ _Sweet dreams, McMullet_ ,” as Keith retreated.

Keith didn’t have trouble falling asleep—too exhausted from the adrenaline drop, despite the time in the healing pod—but he didn’t stay asleep for long. He woke up three separate times from nightmares where Lance wasn’t as skilled at holding his breath as he proclaimed. Keith mashed his knuckles into his eye sockets with a frustrated grunt. He tossed and turned for the rest of the night.

With time, the fear faded, soothed by seeing Lance being his typical goofball self, trying to make them all laugh and brighten their spirits on days when being defenders of the universe got to be too much. Things returned to normal.

Mostly.

It wasn’t until a while later that that Keith really thought about Lance’s special skill having inappropriate applications.

Lance and Keith were stranded for a few days in a desert. They were on a mission to seek out new allies on a planet that wasn’t as civilized as others they’d recruited into the Alliance. They were tracking the planet’s inhabitants through the familiar-but-not terrain when they’d lost the trail and ended up camping in a cave for two nights, running low on water and supplies.

When they’d found Pidge, Hunk, and Allura again, Hunk handed them both canteens from the medical bay that held more liquid than they appeared to, thanks to some crafty Altean engineering that Coran lectured them all on.

“Thanks, man,” Lance huffed, his voice gravelly and cracking. They were both covered in dust from the desert terrain.

He put one hand on Hunk’s shoulder and tipped the canteen up to take a swig, nearly groaning as the first drops hit his tongue. Keith had his canteen halfway to his lips, but he was frozen in place. He was vaguely aware of Pidge’s calculating look in his periphery, but Keith could only focus on Lance. He was transfixed, watching Lance’s throat work with each swallow, eyes tracking a stream of water that leaked from the corner of his mouth and ran over the edge of his jaw and down his long neck.

“Drink, Keith,” Pidge said, prodding him in the side.

Keith blinked out of his frozen state and hurried to press the cool metal of the canteen to his own mouth, inhaling sharply and holding his breath as he took large gulps of much-needed water.

Keith was forced to pause not long after in favor of breathing, feeling slightly dizzy.

His eyes slid over to Lance again, traveling over the way his bent arm flexed beneath his bodysuit—chest armor discarded when Hunk checked them over—and he felt parched all over again. Lance easily downed the entire water canteen without stopping, and when he did pull the canister away his lips were shiny and slick.

And then it hit Keith like a brick wall, making him stutter out an uneven breath with the realization.

 _Lance could hold his breath for a stupidly long amount of time_.

Keith barely paid attention while Lance joked with Hunk and Pidge, silently following the group back into the Blue lion’s cockpit to return to the castle.

After that, he was a goner. He thought about it all the time, at the most inopportune moments.

It didn’t help at all that Lance was _Lance_ , always flirting with anything that moved. He always had a line for Keith, leaving him floundering and flustered. All Keith could see when Lance shot him one of his signature winks was the way his pink tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. He kept coming up behind Keith and leaned in close to speak directly in Keith’s ear—usually about strategy and the mission—but Keith had to keep himself from leaning back against Lance.

Keith was _suffering_.

At night, he dreamed of going to the Altean pool on the castleship with Lance: of bobbing in the water facing each other, with their fingertips just brushing beneath the surface, and keeping just their noses and eyes above the water. And then Lance would sink further, his eyes dancing, teasing Keith, and he would hold his breath. It felt like hours in Keith’s dreams.

Once, he even dreamt that Lance gently pulled him under the surface of the water, surrounding them both in the silent world below. With his blue eyes carefully fixed on Keith, Lance pulled him closer until their lips met. Their limbs tangled together, a knot that could never be undone with how deeply they were intertwined, and breathing didn’t matter because Keith was kissing Lance and Lance’s hands were in his hair and tracing his jaw beneath the water, where Lance shined like the brightest star, and Keith was _dreaming_.

When Keith’s logic caught up with the dreamscape, he struggled to breath, feeling trapped underwater, but then Lance was smiling that same charming smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he was breathing air into Keith’s lungs for him, their lips never parting. Keith held on, and held on, and held on tight to the thing he didn’t want to ever let go or lose.

When he woke from the recurring dream, he would lay in bed, in the dark of his bare room, and touch his lips, trying to recapture the feeling from his subconscious.

It took everything in Keith to not kiss Lance when they were both awake, no matter how much he ached with the desire to, his heart clenching in his chest whenever Lance leaned against him or wrapped an arm around his shoulders to murmur in his ear.

Keith was proud of his ability to keep himself in check when they sparred, paying close attention to his technique and the openings Lance left him. Lance was continuously getting better in training sessions, but Keith was still more experienced and faster than Lance’s strength. More often than not their matches ended with Keith locking Lance in a chokehold, his arm braced under his jaw and pressing into his airway.

Lance leaned up into it—Keith would swear it under oath—his eyes gleaming with something that Keith wasn’t sure he understood. It still made him want more, want to see how long Lance could really go for if he slowly pressed harder. Keith never did it; he couldn’t, no matter that Lance’s breath would hitch and his eyes would beg him to—that was the kind of thing that required negotiating and _safe words_ , and Keith wasn’t ready for that.

Keith was going crazy as the endless days cycled on. His dreams blurred together until both his waking and resting thoughts were all full of blue eyes, tanned skin, and full lips that were going to be the death of him.

He found Lance at his door one night, when Keith was up too late on the training deck long after everyone had gone to bed. Keith’s heart leapt into his throat at the sight of Lance looking slightly rumpled from sleep with his blue and gold robe wrapped around him.

“Lance?” Keith asked tentatively.

Lance looked up at him and his lips quirked, his eyes quickly taking Keith’s appearance in.

Keith was still sweaty from sparring with the gladiator robots. He had his jacket in one hand and he was sure his hair was starting to curl with damp sweat along his forehead. Keith ran the back of his hand over his face self-consciously and cleared his throat.

Lance sucked both of his lips between his teeth and slid his eyes away, sighing. He shoved his hands deep in his robe pockets and shuffled his ridiculously slippered feet on the ground.

“Why are you standing in front of my door?” Keith ventured.

“I was looking for you,” Lance said.

Their voices were quiet in the dimly lit hallway.

Keith waited for Lance to elaborate, and when it didn’t seem like he would, Keith stepped forward and opened his door. “I need to shower.”

Keith didn’t think Lance was going to follow him in, but he felt his presence at his back when he stepped through the door. They got like this occasionally, moving as one unit, a perfectly synchronized duo.

Keith tossed his jacket on the bed and moved around his room, gathering clothes from a drawer and a towel from a compartment near the bathroom.

“You can sit for a while. I won’t be long, I just want to wash off,” Keith said, watching Lance out of the corner of his eye.

“If you take longer than five minutes, I’m going to think you’re jerking off in there,” Lance teased lightly, flopping onto Keith’s bed on his back.

Keith threw a boot in his direction after he toed them off. “ _Lance_.”

“What—are you saying you haven’t? Don’t lie, Keith,” Lance said.

His voice was smooth and syrupy, dropping lower while he shifted to get comfortable. His head was on Keith’s pillow and Keith’s stomach flipped over when he watched Lance turn his face and subtly (see: not subtly) take a deep breath, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Besides,” Lance continued, peeking at Keith through his lowered lashes. “It’s not like there’s anything wrong with doing it. It’s completely natural to touch your dick, dude.”

“Don’t say ‘dick’ and ‘dude’ in the same sentence,” Keith groaned.

Lance snorted and made a rude miming gesture with his hand while he joked. “ _Dude_ , I touch my _dick_ all the time. In the shower. While I think about—”

Keith cut Lance off before he could admit to whatever—or whomever—he thought of in his masturbatory habits by jumping on him, still sweaty and disheveled from his training, and slapping his hand over Lance’s mouth, catching Lance’s laughter in his palm.

Lance smelled like citrus and coconuts—something he made himself from a planet full of lush fruits and plants they’d discovered in deep space. Keith fought hard not to lean closer and bury his nose in Lance’s neck. He was warm and soft and laughing against Keith’s hand, and Keith’s heartbeat was suddenly rocketing out of control, pounding away inside his chest.

Sometimes Keith really regretted his impulsive decisions, after the fact.

But then—

But then Lance’s arms came up to circle loosely around his waist, and Keith’s world tipped over. He was a goner, done for this world. He hoped Lance didn’t notice the way he trembled slightly. If he asked, Keith would blame it on tiring himself out on the training deck.

Lance turned his head slightly and met Keith’s eyes with a bright, happy look. He began speaking earnestly, his voice muffled beneath where Keith was still covering his mouth. He kept his gaze fixed on Keith, unblinking as he spoke. His lips were moving against Keith’s bare palm, soft and warm, and Keith suddenly ripped his hand away, needing to know what Lance was saying with that affectionate expression on his face.

“—just want to be so close to you my nose is buried against your—” Lance paused, his blue eyes sparkling playfully and his lips curling into a satisfied, teasing grin. “Ah-ah, Keith, these are my secrets.”

“But you were just blurting them out,” Keith said, confused. His brows knit together as he looked down at Lance.

His hand still tingled from where Lance’s lips had moved against his skin.

Lance’s arms tightened around his waist and it occurred to Keith that he was completely sprawled on top of Lance. He blinked and shifted, all at once aware of the way they were pressed from shoulder to hip to knee. Keith felt heat flooding his face and hoped if Lance pointed it out he would believe Keith was just overheated from training.

“They still would’ve been secret,” Lance said mock-solemnly, as if that made any sense.

Keith let it be for the moment, his mind cataloguing Lance’s words away to analyze later. Keith chewed on his lip for a beat before he switched topics. “Why were you looking for me tonight? I thought you went to bed hours ago.”

“I did,” Lance said, the humor fading fast from his eyes. Keith could kick himself; he hated when the light died in Lance’s eyes. “I, uh. I just…wanted some company. Had a, um…bad dream, I think. I woke up feeling weird and restless and I wanted to talk to you so I could settle down.”

“Oh,” Keith said.

Keith’s heart panged sharply. His eyes darted back and forth between Lance’s, his fingers stroking absently against Lance’s jaw in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. He wasn’t as good at being comforting and supportive as Lance was. But a warm glow burned in him because Lance came to Keith to feel better.

“What happened?” Keith asked gently, determined to be there for Lance in the same way that Lance was his right hand man, his voice of reason.

Keith moved so that one of his legs was between Lance’s and he bit down on a smile when Lance automatically tossed his leg over Keith’s, tucking Keith’s calf under his knee. Lance’s fingers played with the hem of Keith’s shirt and Keith waited patiently for him to speak.

Lance’s warmth felt like it was wrapping all around Keith, drawing him down and surrounding him, making him feel _so much_.

“Just some stuff I dream about sometimes. My family, mostly,” Lance admitted in a hollow voice that Keith hated; he never wanted to hear Lance sound like that, so lifeless and monotone.

Keith’s fingers brushed over Lance’s jaw again, and he couldn’t hold a soft smile back when Lance’s arms squeezed him again, his palms smoothing up and down Keith’s back and his long fingers teasing under the edge of Keith’s black t-shirt. The corners of Lance’s mouth quirked up into an answering smile. He traced small, ever changing patterns into the small of Keith’s back.

“Were you waiting long before I got here?” Keith questioned.

Lance shook his head, seemingly distracted by a lock of Keith’s hair that had fallen forward. He reached up to brush it away, tucking it behind Keith’s ear. It fell free again after a beat and Lance smiled, fond and soft and Keith sat there for a moment, aching and wanting.

Keith took a while to think of something else to say that might make Lance feel better about being homesick—tried to come up with words as easily as Lance could. He nearly snorted to himself, finding his train of thought supplying him with a voice that sounded suspiciously like Lance’s: _What would Lance do?_

Keith could do this. He could be the same thing for Lance that he was for Keith.

“Do you want to know why I don’t dream of Earth much?” Keith ventured, his voice wavering slightly.

Lance’s gaze snapped to his in an instant, piercing and intent. Keith took a breath and steeled himself for what he was about to admit. His first instinct was always to push people away, but all he wanted to do with Lance was pull him in closer, tuck him safely inside his heart and hold him there.

“It’s because the only thing that’s really left for me on Earth is that run-down desert shack,” Keith murmured. He licked his lips and tilted his head, studying Lance’s face. “But…but it’s not my home anymore. My home is here. Shiro and Pidge and Hunk—Allura and Coran,” he took another pause, swallowing. His words were running together as he continued, stumbling over one another, “… _you_ … Lance, the most important people to me are in space, by my side. You’re my family—my home.”

When he was finished, Keith was trembling again, but this time Lance was stroking his back and looking at him with wide eyes, tugging him closer until their noses were brushing and Keith was no longer supporting himself above Lance’s body. They were pressed together more firmly, with Keith’s weight resting in Lance’s arms, against his chest. Keith let out a shuddering breath at how good it felt to be held.

Lance was breathing quickly, out of breath for once, despite his crowing about how well he could hold it. His chest rose and fell beneath Keith’s and he looked like he was struggling to speak, his lips forming around words that didn’t come out.

Instead, Lance said nothing. Instead, Lance made a frustrated noise and wrapped his fingers around the back of Keith’s neck and pulled him into a kiss.

Keith sucked in a breath sharply through his nose, clutching at Lance as he melded against him, kissing him back fiercely with all of the pent up need he’d built inside.

Keith couldn’t hold still at all, his hands fluttering over Lance and his body shifting and fidgeting, still feeling a desperation welling up inside of him and a need to get closer, to climb inside of Lance’s body because it was his home and he didn’t ever want to leave it.

Lance was making small sounds into the kiss, angling his head and sliding his fingers into Keith’s longer hair, tugging and making Keith groan instinctively. Keith sucked on his lower lip; it had driven him crazy for so long every time Lance licked at it, and he thrived on the way Lance writhed beneath him, bucking against him and wrapping his leg tighter around the back of Keith’s knee.

Keith needed to break away to breath long before he was ready to, long before he was anywhere close to being done kissing Lance.

He panted, gasping for air in big gulps as Lance pressed a flurry of soft kisses over his jaw and beneath it, nipping at the underside of his chin and working his way down Keith’s neck. Keith’s fingers flexed on the neckline of Lance’s robe and he tugged it to the side, needing more of Lance’s warmth and his heady scent. Lance was sucking on Keith’s neck with a determined purpose, finding all of his sensitive spots with skillful ease, and Keith was melting against him and uttering needy sounds that he’d never made in his life.

He moved his hand up and gripped Lance’s short hair, holding on for dear life as Lance wrecked him with his clever tongue and his grazing teeth.

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith gasped, pressing down against him and feeling all of Lance against him. “I…I…”

Lance pulled away from his neck just far enough to hush him, his lips still brushing against Keith’s flushed, overheated skin. He murmured to Keith in a gentle tone that calmed the rushing fervor of need crashing down on Keith. “Shh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Keith.”

Keith made a broken off whimpering sound and buried his face in Lance’s neck, like he’d wanted to before, and inhaled Lance’s sweet smelling skin. Lance ran his fingers through his hair repeatedly until Keith felt like he wasn’t going to spiral out of control from just a kiss, speaking to him in hushed tones.

“I think of you that way, too,” Lance said, soft and reverent and Keith’s chest felt like it might crack open and spill out at any moment. “Keith. Keith, you’re so important to me.”

Keith leaned up and kissed him again, feeling like Lance was a tall drink of cool water in the middle of the barren desert and Keith was a dying man.

Lance’s arms squeezed around Keith as he rolled them over, pinning Keith to the bed without breaking the kiss. His tongue was slipping into Keith’s mouth, sliding against his and his hips were rolling against Keith’s until Keith was breathless all over again. He met each of Lance’s movements, rocking up against him.

Lance’s fingers traced the neckline of Keith’s t-shirt, his fingers dipping under the edge and hooking into the material. He tugged at it pointedly while sucking on Keith’s tongue at the same time. Keith tried to pay attention; Lance seemed to be asking Keith a silent question. Keith nodded, already reaching down to pull uselessly at the hem of his shirt. He ran into a frustrating problem when taking off his shirt required him to stop kissing Lance.

Lance chuckled against his lips, low and delicious, and slid his hand up under Keith’s shirt, his palm hot against Keith’s stomach and chest as it traveled up, up, up under Keith’s shirt to reveal more of his skin to Lance.

Keith was the first to pull away from their kiss again. He felt dizzy and drunk on kissing Lance. He pulled a face when he noticed Lance wasn’t even out of breath.

Lance smirked down at him, his charm and sweetness drifting into a predatory look that Keith’s body was responding to. Lance’s eyes fell to Keith’s chest and he slowly dragged just the tips of his fingers over Keith’s skin, circling an exposed nipple and tweaking it.

Keith gasped and arched up, his eyes widening. Lance looked back at him and his eyes darkened.

And suddenly, Keith thought of his dreams: the ones of Lance kissing him underwater and breathing for Keith when he no longer could.

“You really are able to hold your breath for a long time, huh?” Keith blurted.

Lance blinked, the sultry look clearing from his face into one of vague confusion. Keith wanted to slap a hand over his own face, and possibly die of embarrassment.

“What?” Lance asked.

Keith sighed and reached up to tug at his bangs, fidgeting. “You…well, you said…because you were a swimmer. That you can hold your breath really long.”

Lance blinked again, and then understanding dawned on his face. “Oh. _Oh_ …yeah. I can.”

His voice was going low and lovely again; he looked smug. Lance bit his lip and lazily mapped Keith’s chest with dancing fingertips, making Keith squirm when he found another sensitive spot. Lance watched his fingers moving intently, alternating between experimenting with lightly scraping his nails over Keith’s skin and changing the pressure of his touches.

By the time a few minutes had passed, Keith was struggling not to writhe and whine for more. Lance was moving up and down his chest and stomach, and each time he moved down he trailed his touch lower and lower, torturously close to Keith’s jeans. Keith felt like he might vibrate out of his own skin; he was tingling all over. His breath hitched in his throat whenever Lance randomly tweaked a nipple or came near his waistband.

“Please,” Keith finally uttered, ragged and raw. “Please, just— _just_ —”

“Just what?” Lance asked, watching Keith intently. “Tell me what you need, Keith. I’ll do whatever you want to do.”

Keith grunted and tossed his head on the pillow. “I—will you…can we do more?”

“What do you want?” Lance repeated. “You’re in charge, okay? I’ll follow you wherever you want to lead us.”

Keith swallowed and tried to collect himself, feeling shivery from Lance’s teasing touches. But he knew what he wanted, what he’d been secretly thinking of since he’d seen Lance downing a full canteen of water. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and stared up at Lance, taking in his eager expression.

Keith’s cheeks prickled with heat; he was sure they were tinged pink and flushed. When he finally managed to speak, it was in a jumbled rush. “Is it moving too fast if I ask you to suck me off?”

Keith pressed his lips together and peered up at Lance, holding his breath and waiting for Lance to get up and stalk out of the room, to leave him alone.

Lance did none of those things.

Lance’s lips curled into a sinful grin, full of promise.

“Oh, Keith,” Lance said—and, _god_ , the way his voice sounded nearly made Keith come right then. “I’ve wanted to suck your dick since the first time I saw you, back when we were at the Garrison.”

Keith swallowed thickly, trying to get his sluggish brain to catch up and process the implication of Lance’s words. It was difficult to focus when his dick was throbbing with heat in his pants, so hard and ready for Lance.

Lance took a little gasping breath and trailed his fingers lightly over the sizeable bulge in Keith’s jeans, humming low and satisfied when he traced the outline of Keith’s dick.

“God, Keith. You’re—big,” Lance said excitedly, his eyes gleaming. “Wow.”

Keith flushed and hid his face, pressing the back of his hands over it and involuntarily pressing his hips up to follow Lance’s retreating fingers. Lance’s praise washed over Keith and made him shudder.

“Do you want to know what the secret was that I was telling you before? When you were covering my mouth?” Lance asked playfully.

Keith hummed, still hiding behind his hands. Lance twined their fingers together and gently brought Keith’s hands away from his face. Lance was smiling the same way he did when he pulled off a particularly good maneuver in Red or Blue. Lance shifted so that his body was covering Keith’s again; he was a welcome weight. It felt right to be so close to him.

“ _Well_ ,” Lance began, a hint of smugness creeping into his voice. “I was saying how long I’ve liked you, obviously. But—more importantly—when you took your hand away I was actually saying, in detail, how much I wanted to swallow your dick so that my nose was buried against your short and curlies.”

When he finished speaking he looked proud of himself, laughing and winking at Keith.

“So, your request is super mutually beneficial,” Lance added. “I guess we just make such a good team that we’re on the same wavelength.”

Keith opened and closed his mouth a few times, stunned into silence at Lance’s confession. A pulse of desire licked down his spine and pooled in his groin.

“How long have you…?” Keith trailed off, unsure what he was even asking about.

“I told you, since the Garrison,” Lance said cheerfully. “Man, I used to jerk myself raw to fantasies about it. I would picture us meeting in the communal showers or fighting over flight scores and it turning into making out—y’know, classic rival to lovers stuff.”

“What?” Keith asked, even more confused by Lance’s babbling. He shifted and grunted at the pressure it put on his erection, breath hitching at the delicious friction. “I’m still hard, here.”

“Uh, yeah, duh,” Lance scoffed. “So am I, babe.”

“Babe?” Keith gaped at Lance.

“ _Babe_ ,” Lance repeated proudly. “Or, I could definitely use my favorite Spanish pet names. There’s so many cute diminutives, and you _are_ shorter than me, so it would be really fitting. Oh! I know! How about: _rojito_.”

Lance gave him a suave look, rolling his ‘r’ and breathing out the pet name in a breathy undertone. Keith shivered involuntarily, making Lance even smugger.

“Oh, look at that, you _like_ it,” Lance gloated. He grinned sharply and brought his lips to Keith’s ear. “ _No puedo esperar a ver si te ruborizas de los pies a la cabeza cuando haga que te corras_.”

When Lance began attacking the skin under Keith’s ear after speaking, Keith made a garbled, choked sound and scraped his nails involuntarily across Lance’s back. He earned a delighted sound from Lance, who sucked on his neck enthusiastically.

“Keith,” Lance murmured hotly against his skin. “I’m going to suck you off now.”

“Okay,” Keith said unevenly.

Lance chuckled into the crook of Keith’s neck and sat back to pull Keith’s shirt all the way off. Lance shrugged out of his robe and tossed it to the foot of the bed. Keith shook his hair out of his face and reached up with shy hands to help Lance slide out of his own shirt while he kneeled over him, marveling at how smooth his skin felt against his callused fingers. Lance stared down at him with a heated look, leering as he tucked his fingers in the elastic waistband of his pajamas and slid them down his hips, over his erection tenting the front.

Lance made a beautiful picture in that moment. He was kneeling above Keith, looking confident and sure, his bare skin on display, and his briefs straining where they confined his erection.

Keith made a rumbled growling sound low in his throat and he sat up to run his hands all over Lance’s body. He was built just like a swimmer, Keith marveled, with broad, strong shoulders, sinewy lean muscles, and a flat stomach that quivered when Keith stroked it, looking up into Lance’s eyes.

“Keith,” Lance whispered. Keith tilted his head down and nipped at the spot next to Lance’s belly button. Lance sucked in a sharp breath and tackled him back to the bed. “My turn.”

Lance hummed as he peppered kisses all over Keith’s bare chest, pausing to flick his tongue over Keith’s nipples and dragging his nose in a meandering line from Keith’s waist to the edge of his jeans. Lance took his time mapping the skin there, until Keith was shaking and needy and wrapping his legs around Lance’s waist.

“Come on,” Keith bit out. “You’re killing me.”

“You’ll survive, I think,” Lance said. He propped his chin on Keith’s stomach and watched him for the span of several heartbeats. “The next part? That I’m not so sure about. You see, _rojito_ , I’m about to rock your world.”

“Then stop talking and teasing and _do it already_ ,” Keith grumbled. He ran his fingers through Lance’s short hair and tugged sharply. “Or I’ll leave you here alone and go take care of myself in the shower.”

“Mm, adding water to this whole thing wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Lance mused. “But I like you like this, laying down and spread out for me.”

Keith felt like Lance kept punching him in the stomach with his words. He bucked up, nudging his hips into Lance’s chest and humming at the brief relief of pressure, exhaling in a soft rush.

Lance tutted and pressed Keith back into the bed firmly. He was so much stronger than he looked. “So impatient,” Lance huffed.

“I wonder why,” Keith said wryly.

Lance pinned Keith with a confident look as he popped the button on Keith’s jeans and finally helped him peel them off. Keith reached down and palmed himself, biting his lip as he squeezed. Lance’s long fingers circled his wrist and his blue eyes burned, watching him.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Lance breathed. “I almost want to just sit here and watch you jerk off, but…I want to taste you more.”

Keith whined at Lance’s words, feeling heat throbbing through his gut and his balls drawing up. He wasn’t going to last long at this point, not after Lance had worked him up until he was toeing the edge of a cliff.

Lance gently batted Keith’s hand away from his cock and hooked his fingers in the waistband of Keith’s boxers, pulling them down smoothly. Both of them gasped as Keith’s dick sprung forward. Lance didn’t even wait until he pulled Keith’s underwear down all the way, leaving off at mid-thigh before he swooped down and closed his lips eagerly around the head of Keith’s cock.

Keith made an embarrassing sound when he was met with the wet heat of Lance’s mouth, cupping the back of Lance’s head with both hands and curling up at the shoulders. Lance hummed in response and his lips sank lower around Keith, his tongue alternating between flicking at the slit and working under Keith’s foreskin. Keith trembled, circling his hips in small, abortive movements. Lance pressed his tongue flat against his length and sucked while slowly bobbing his head up and down.

“Oh god,” Keith groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

He flopped back against the bed and squirmed, wanting so badly to thrust into the welcome warmth of Lance’s mouth and sink into his body. Lance played with his balls with one hand, stroking them and massaging them in his cupped palm and his other came up to circle around the base of Keith’s dick, jerking him off while he worked into a rhythm on Keith’s dick. Lance made a slurping sound as he came up and nearly off, swirling his tongue around the crown.

Keith brought one hand up and pressed his knuckles against his lips, trying to hold onto the tattered shreds of his control. They’d barely begun and he was already three second from coming.

“Really—really not going to last long, Lance,” Keith got out choppily, shaking each time Lance’s mouth sank lower and lower onto his cock.

Lance hummed again, his nose just grazing the patch of dark hair surrounding the base of Keith’s dick. Keith could feel the back of Lance’s throat working and felt more than heard him taking a deep breath before he bobbed his head once more and slid down and then _down_ , relaxing around Keith until he was all the way inside Lance’s mouth.

“Holy shit,” Keith breathed, wide eyed and wild and calling on every fibre of his being to not thrust mindlessly into Lance’s mouth in that moment.

After a few ticks, Lance pulled back, sucking back up the length of his cock and pulling off with a filthy slurping sound. Lance wiped at the corner of his slick mouth with the back of his hand, his lashes lowered. His fist was wrapped around the base of Keith’s dick, squeezing slightly.

“I want you to let go,” Lance said.

Keith held his hands up, as if he’d been burned, his eyes wide and panicked at doing something wrong that Lance didn’t like.

Lance laughed, snorting into Keith’s hip and dropped a fond kiss there.

“Wha—no, _Keith_ ,” Lance said, still chuckling. “I just…you don’t have to worry that you’re going to break me. Pull on my hair, hold me down—use my mouth. It’s okay.”

“You…” Keith couldn’t even make his mouth form the words that jumped into his head. He bit his lip, dragging his teeth over it. “You’re sure?”

“I won’t break,” Lance repeated, winking. “I promise. I’ll pull off and stop you if it’s too much. If I pinch you, then that’s my signal to cool your jets, okay?”

Keith nodded in agreement, huffing out a nervous, excited breath.

“Good,” Lance said, stroking Keith’s cock.

Lance was back on Keith with renewed enthusiasm, his head moving up and down and his breath dragging in and out through his nose. Keith moaned when Lance rubbed his balls, rolling them between his fingers while he worked his tongue on Keith’s cock.

“Feels…feels really good,” Keith rasped tightly.

Keith let his hands find the back of Lance’s head again and he ran his fingers through his hair, making it stick up on end. As Lance sped up the pace, Keith began to pump his hips—short and stuttering at first and then building up until he was meeting Lance every time he sank down, thrusting up into his mouth with jerking movements. It felt amazing: Lance’s tongue was pressed against him, he was making rough sounds, hungry and filthy, and the slick suction was dragging him closer and closer to his release.

The heady pleasure was like a snake coiling tighter and tighter in his gut, making him feel feverishly hot all over.

“Don’t stop,” Keith growled roughly, carefully holding the sides of Lance’s head and pumping his hips faster. “Oh my god.”

Lance made a garbled sound and adapted to keep up with the new pace Keith set, tongue and lips working on his dick. His eyes flickered up to meet Keith’s while Keith stared down at him with wide eyes, not wanting to miss a second of the sight of Lance with his lips wrapped around Keith’s cock. And it made the perfect picture—Lance was sprawled between Keith’s legs, his tan cheeks tinged with a flush and his eyes bright and full of desire. His lips were slick and wet, shiny where they were stretched around Keith, looking like he belonged between Keith’s legs.

Keith grunted under his breath and rocked his hips up between those beautiful lips—and then Lance _winked_ at him, and Keith was gone.

Keith made a warbling, raw sound and flexed his hold on the sides of Lance’s head in a brief approximation of a warning that he was about to finish. Lance stroked a hand over his hip in acknowledgement and sucked harder, meeting his eyes with a beautiful, dark look. Keith wanted to watch, he wanted to see so badly, but he couldn’t hold his eyes open as the winding ecstasy became too much.

Keith’s eyes squeezed shut and he moaned faintly, sliding his fingers across Lance’s cheek to trace the stretched edge of Lance’s lips. Lance sucked firmly again, his head still moving as Keith’s hips slowed and his balls drew up tight. When his orgasm came, his limbs shook and his release radiated out from his center, electrifying shocks of pleasure zinging through him. His cock throbbed insistently, giving a feeble jerk as the first spurt of his come spilled onto Lance’s tongue.

Lance made a hum of appreciation, mouth working around Keith’s dick to swallow as Keith filled it with his come. Keith seized up as he finished, and then slumped back against the rumpled bed, his breath coming in ragged pants. Lance was suddenly a warm presence at his side, fingers trailing over Keith’s damp skin while he nuzzled into Keith’s shoulder, murmuring in disjointed-sounding Spanish. He wasn’t even out of breath, not one bit.

Keith felt sluggish and disoriented; he’d come so hard that he was just trying to focus on basic necessities, like breathing, while the blood slowly left his dick and returned to his brain.

He glanced down and saw that he was still mostly hard.

Keith flopped his head back against the pillow and tilted his face towards Lance. “Hi.”

Lance smiled at him shyly, partially hiding his face against Keith’s shoulder. His face was flushed, even the tips of his ears had a darker tinge to them.

“Hey there, good lookin’.”

Keith pulled a face and lazily covered Lance’s with one of his hands. “Awful,” Keith said shortly.

“You love it,” Lance countered. He pecked Keith’s shoulder with a loud, smacking kiss.

Keith blinked, feeling lethargic and sleepy. He wanted to crawl under the covers and curl into Lance’s body, fall asleep surrounded by his warmth. “Mm, sleep.”

“No, shower,” Lance said, laughing. “Or, at least a tissue, man—Jesus. You heathen.”

“But it’s so warm and nice right now,” Keith mumbled, using a huge amount of effort to shift onto his side and shuffle close to Lance, slinging an arm over his waist and stroking his thumb up and down Lance’s bare back. “Soft.”

“Wow, so ten points to me, obviously, because I really did blow your brains out,” Lance said smugly. “Literally,” he added, because he was five.

Keith swatted at him uselessly. His dozed for a few moments, floating in and out of consciousness a few times while Lance played with his hair and lightly scraped his nails over his chest and arms. A thought occurred to Keith and his eyes snapped open. He jerked up, propping himself on his elbow and looming over Lance.

“Where’s the fire?” Lance asked.

“You didn’t come?” Keith searched his face, his brows drawing together. “I—you didn’t say anything, you just let me fall asleep.”

Lance smiled up at him, sweet and beautiful.

“Don’t worry, _querido_. I’m…pretty good.” Lance coughed and darted his gaze away for a moment, gesturing down at his briefs. Keith noticed a dark wet spot and his eyebrows shot up. “I kind of…okay, look, you were super hot and making all these dirty sounds, and then you grabbed my face and just started fucking my mouth, like I wanted you to do, and—”

Keith cut off his babbling with a swift kiss, tasting the lingering bitterness of his release on Lance’s tongue. Lance hummed into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders. When they parted Keith touched his forehead to Lance’s.

“Shower?” Keith offered.

“Yes, please,” Lance said, relieved.

They got up together and Keith pulled another fresh towel from the panel by the bathroom door. Lance shucked his briefs off, letting them land on the floor in a sticky heap. Lance held out his hand and Keith took it, allowing Lance to pull him into the bathroom. They shared a secret smile while the water started and together they climbed into the shower pod.

“Is this going to change anything with the team?” Lance asked carefully, when he was done shampooing his hair.

Keith crowded Lance against the wall of the stall and caged him in, bracing his hands on either side of him. He brought their chests together and held Lance’s gaze.

“Not at all. As far as I’m concerned, you’re my home, just like you’ve been for the last year,” Keith said, heartfelt and sure in a way that he hadn’t felt before, when he didn’t know that Lance felt the same. “I’ve got my brothers and sister in Shiro and Pidge and Hunk, but with you...you’re my right hand man, and now we’re even closer partners.”

Lance beamed and caught Keith’s lips in a kiss. He hugged Keith close and planted even more kisses all over his face, paying special attention to the tip of his nose and his eyes, and the corner of Keith’s mouth where he got a dimple when he smiled. Keith snorted and spun Lance around so that they were both under the spray of the shower again, rinsing off. They kissed languidly while the water cascaded down on them, water droplets pebbling on their skin and rolling down the mountains and valleys of their bodies.

When they were done showering, they got ready for bed and Lance never made the move to leave, and when Keith crawled into bed and held up the corner of his blanket, Lance shuffled in beside him and tucked himself against Keith’s side, wiggling further down the bed to let his head rest on Keith’s shoulder.

Lance hummed contentedly when Keith petted his hair.

Keith couldn’t keep the happy smile off his face, and he fell asleep that way, floating on a high of joy and peacefulness and love, feeling very much like he was exactly where he needed to be, where he belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments + Kudos are ♥ | Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://starboysinspace.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Translations:  
>  _rojito_ \- red, diminutive  
>  _querido_ \- darling, dear, sweetheart  
>  _"No puedo esperar para ver si te sonrojas de pies a cabeza cuando corres."_ \- "I can’t wait to see you blush from head to toe when you come."


End file.
